


Surviving an Undertow

by perfectdisharmony



Category: Splatoon
Genre: Like really slow, M/M, Slow Burn, Was meant to be a oneshot, but too many ideas came in my head and here we are, enemies to friends to boyfriends, will add tags as chapters update
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-22
Updated: 2019-02-08
Packaged: 2019-07-01 05:35:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 4,582
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15767658
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/perfectdisharmony/pseuds/perfectdisharmony
Summary: Agent 8 may have a crush on Agent 3. You know, the seemingly ruthless, beautiful badass inkling who tried to kill him twice? That one.*Orignal name: Reserved Progress





	1. Chapter 1

It only takes thirty hours of reaching and exploring the surface of Inkopolis before Agent 8 decides to return to the Deepsea Metro. Don't get him wrong, he loves Inkopolis with his recently freed soul and heart, and he's barely scraped the surface of all the possibilities Inkopolis has to offer. But there's some unfinished business underground he has to complete.

Aboard the Deepsea Metro, he catches sight of Cap’n Cuttlefish, who waves the octoling over with his cane. Eight is wary for a moment before taking hesitant steps towards him.

“How’s it hangin’, Agent 8?” Cuttlefish starts to rap, waving his hand in his face. “Now that you're free, you don't have to stay here- there's so much to see!”

Eight explains that he's here to regain the rest of his memories, and Cuttlefish pulls out a guilty face.

“Yeah…” Cuttlefish’s rap dialect is gone. “I apologize for that. Since I sent Agent 3 after you, I'm partly to blame. Although Tartar seemed to be the real threat…”

Eight nods, fists clenched and panic rising at the mention of Three. Cuttlefish takes notice and tries to reassure him.

“Don't worry, I sent Three on patrol for a couple of days. I figured it'd be best to keep some distance between you two due to your... past interactions.” 

Eight opens his fists and thanks Cuttlefish silently.

“Besides, you can never be too careful when it comes to protecting Inkopolis!” Cuttlefish stands and strikes a pose. “We are the New SquidBeak Splatoon, you know!”

The New Squidbeak Splatoon… The term swims around Eight’s head.

“Speaking of Inkopolis,” Cuttlefish continues, “Surely you've had your fun up there since we escaped this place. Tell us about it!”

“Inkopolis does sound pretty neat,” Iso Padre chimes in, “From what Cuttlefish tells me. I'd like to hear more about it.”

So Eight tells them everything he can remember about the surface. He describes how colorful the streets are, about the posters and videos scattered across the city announcing new weapons and gear. He mentions how diverse the people in Inkopolis are, inklings and jellyfish filling the place, sea urchins and shellfish sealing deals by the minute. He explains all the comparisons he's made between inkling and octoling culture, from the technology to the tunes to the tattooed art on the buildings.

“Sounds like a beauty,” Padre nods. “The promised land truly is something amazing. Even now, I wish I could see it.”

When Eight gets off the Deepsea Metro to participate in another test, he makes a mental note to take pictures of Inkopolis for Iso Padre. He'll make it a surprise, for an amplified response.

Over the next few days, Eight completes test after test, adding more mem cakes to his collection, all while pleasing both Iso Padre and CQ Cumber. In time, Eight warms up to Cuttlefish as well. He's even learned to tolerate his freestyle raps.

At some point, when Eight is close to regaining all his memories, Cuttlefish invites him to a party, and Eight raises his eyebrows in question.

“It’s more of a social gathering between the agents of the Splatoon,” Cuttlefish explains. “We don't wanna leave you alone and confused when we go back. Inkopolis is a lot more fun with friends!”

Eight agrees. The number of inklings in the huge city overwhelms him.

“And try not to be too scared of Three, yeah? He’s actually a nice kid. Though I fear all the missions I've sent Agent 3 on have made him isolated from others… He’s just a tad cautious, is all. I feel you both could use a friend.”

Agent 8 nods after a while. He won't make any promises, but he can at least say that he put in effort. He agrees with Cuttlefish on one thing; being scared of Agent 3 wasn't doing him any favors.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The octo expansion is fucking superb
> 
>  
> 
> So, yeah. I don't exactly know when I'll update this, but I will update it. I feel like doing this in chapters will motivate me to write more, so we'll see how it goes! I've got like half of chapter 2 written down, so you can expect something soon. Constructive criticism is appreciated, and thanks for reading!
> 
>  
> 
> Why yes, I do have a tumblr: @deliriousgame


	2. Chapter 2

In this social gathering between members of the New Squidbeak Splatoon, Eight feels as lost and isolated as ever. He didn't think this many people would show up.

Others might tell him four people — excluding himself and the Captain — isn't much, but he begs to differ.

After they left the Metro, Cuttlefish and Eight departed for Octo Canyon. The trip was quiet but interesting, as Cuttlefish exchanged messages with an “Agent 2” throughout the way. Eventually they caught eye of a small shack, with a huge kettle near it.

“This seems like the place she was talking about…” Cuttlefish muttered, checking his phone. “Tentakeel Outpost…. yeah, it is.”

As they got closer, Agent 8 noticed the yellow ink scattered across the ground and wondered if he could ditch the captain when he wasn't looking.

“You might be wonderin’ why we’re all the way out here instead of Inkopolis,” Cuttlefish said, pounding on the shack door. “And the answer’s simple; a secret meeting between members of a secret organization needs to be kept se-”

The door burst open before Cuttlefish could finish, and Eight lept back as he saw a flash of pink rush towards the old man.

“GRANDPA I MISSED YOU SO SO MUCH I WAS SO WORRIED-”

A female inkling, wearing a pink beanie and sweatshirt to match her hair, jumped out and embraced Cuttlefish. Eight recognized her on sight.

Callie.  
From the Squid Sisters…  
The popular pop star duo who sang that beautiful melody...

Eight is still in shock to notice Marie appear from behind the shack, dropping the parasol in her grasp.

“Sorry, Grandpa, she’s really excited.” Marie kneeled down and proceeded to pry Callie off. “We really missed you.”

“Ah… I missed you guys too.”

“We have so much catching up to do, Gramps!” Callie squealed, helping Cuttlefish back on his feet.” We have to talk about the movie I'm starring in, Marie’s new tv show, Agent 4 joining and me getting brainwashed-”

“What?” Cuttlefish clung onto the arms of his granddaughter. “You were _brainwashed_?”

“She _was_ , Grandpa,” Marie assured him, picking up her parasol. “But we took care of it. Well, Agent 4 did, mostly.”

“I’ve been meaning to greet Agent 4 for a while now… is she here yet?”

“In the main room with Sheldon,” Callie said. “They’re eating crabby cakes.”

Cuttlefish’s eyes lightened up. “Well, what are we waiting for? Let’s go!”

Callie and Cuttlefish made their way inside, talking vividly, and Marie finally makes eye contact with Eight.

“Try not to be starstruck. She jabbed her head at the door’s direction. “You coming in or what?”  
____________________________________

Fast forward to the present where Eight is in the kitchen with Marie, both of them sipping milk tea from chipped china. He’s far past the point of adoration for the Squid Sisters, and fear has submerged in him. He feels like an intruder, lights blinding his vision, the tea’s too hot to hold in his hands—

“So… you're Agent 8, huh?” Marie asks, setting out more tea cups on the counter. “Cuttlefish told me about you. Says you two almost died in a blender trying to escape underground.”

Eight hangs his head low, looking at the reflection of the ceiling from his tea.

“Not that I'm blaming you,” Marie continues. “Gramps is pretty impulsive and probably put you both in that situation. Honestly, he needs to stay here where we can keep an eye out on him…”

Eight stays silent.

“You don't talk much, huh?” Marie fills the tea cups with boiling water. “It's fine. New people, different environment with an entire species that screwed your kind over — it's expected of you to stay quiet. Smart, even.”

Eight turns his head towards her to indicate that he's listening.

“Either way, I want to thank you personally. Not just for watching over Grandpa, but for saving Inkopolis.” Marie sips from her cup. “If Gramps didn't make it back from underground… and if Callie remained brainwashed under Octavio’s control… I really don't know.”

Marie’s talking more to herself now, as Eight notices her looking down in her own cup.

“I wouldn't have been able to lose both of them at the same time, with no way of contacting them, no way to say a proper goodbye…”

Marie is completely still now, silently crying. The tears from her face fall into her cup.

Eight doesn't know what to say. The air is definitely heavier with streaks of bad thoughts, and yet, Eight can breathe easier with this atmosphere weighing Marie down. He slowly reaches for the box of tea bags, grabs an empty cup she forgot to fill, and fixes her another cup of tea. He stands and heads towards the stove, kettle full of scalding liquid. Steadily pouring the kettle, the water runs with Marie's tears. Eight turns behind him and places the cup in front of Marie, and awaits her response.

Marie sniffs and gives a small smile. “God, you're _really_ quiet. And kinda cute too.” She reaches for her tea.

“Thanks. I swear I'm usually not this emotional. But you do see why you're here, right? Being alone is one of the worst feelings out there. I only felt that pain for a couple of months, and even then, I wasn't truly alone. But you… I think you know that feeling better than most people. To know that my ancestors are partially responsible for your isolation, your loneliness … it's terrible. The least we can do is help guide you through this and be more welcoming of octolings.”

Marie grabs Eight’s hand with both of hers.

“We all want to help you, Agent 8. Me, Callie, Cuttlefish. Even Four and Three. So don't run.”

For the first time since he ascended to the Promised Land, Eight makes eye contact. Real eye contact, his pupils looking into hers, and he holds his gaze in Marie's for the longest time. The fear inside him has morphed into an alien, bubbling mix of confusion, acceptance, and the rekindled wonder of what Inkopolis has in store for him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wrote this instead of writing my research essays... let's hope I have enough time to finish them lol
> 
> Constructive criticism is appreciated, and thanks for reading!


	3. Chapter 3

Eight insists on helping Marie with food preparation in the kitchen. He figures he can start proper interaction with others by warming up to Marie and work up confidence to hang with the rest of the members.

Besides, the main room’s too loud for his liking. The TV’s turned up to the highest volume, and Eight can hear the events of a tournament taking place all the way from the sink, where he's currently peeling carrots.

He's been eavesdropping on the conversations in the other room for about an hour, and he's managed to get the gist of who everyone is: You had the retired war hero legend, Captain Cuttlefish, then you had his granddaughters, Callie and Marie — the actual _Squid Sisters_ —

You had a shellfish with a vast knowledge of turf wars and weapons— he went by the name Sheldon.

And there was another female inkling, her voice bright and oozing with excitement— Eight assumes she is Agent Four.

It's a full house in here, everyone in unison with smiles and ecstatic voices. The only person who hadn't shown up yet was —

“...Three.”

Eight drops the carrot peeler.

“I need three carrots for the stew, Eight!” Marie shouts from the stove. “Make sure they're chopped~”

A deafening whistle from the TV indicates the end of a match. There's silence for a few seconds, and a group of disapproving sounds emerge from the main room afterwards.

“Are you squidding me!? The other team totally had it!” Callie groans.

“It's because that squid can't use that weapon to save his life,” Sheldon says, irritation present in his voice. “You can't spam the Brella’s shield like that and expect to win!”

“Ugh, kids these days, with their brellas and duelies,” Cuttlefish mutters. “What do you think ‘bout those new weapons, Four?”

Four shouts multiple whoops in rapid succession in response.

“That reminds me,” Marie speaks, bringing Eight’s focus back into the kitchen. “You gotta try out turf wars when you get a chance. They're the hottest hobby right now.”

Eight thinks about it. Battling other people… for fun? The concept was alien to him. All his life, he’d been taught that fighting was a tactic for survival, a way to live. To think that an lethal event that happened one hundred years ago was reenacted in the present as a fun sport…

Either inklings didn't realize the impact of the Great Turf War or they were sadists. Maybe they were both. Ignorant, dangerous sadists with attractive looks and a striking fashion sense. Those types of people were the absolute worst.

Eight huffs as he scrapes the chopped carrots into a bowl for Marie. It's not like his kind were complete angels in terms of morality. When octolings were banished from the surface after the war, they spent all that time underground expanding and enhancing their weapons and tech. Nearly a century later, octolings were victorious in claiming the Great Zapfish for themselves, even though octo tech performed considerably well with regular or mini zapfish.

They stole that Zapfish because they wanted _revenge_. And that revenge, as short lived as it was, tasted incredibly sweet; like sugar cubes drowned in honey.

Then that resonating melody pierced through his body and suddenly everything Eight knew — everything Eight was raised to be — seemed wrong. From that point on, all he could think about was escaping underground. And he had escaped with the help of inklings —  and a tech savvy octoling. Eight was eternally grateful to Marina, Pearl, Cuttlefish, and Three.

Yes, the same Three that tried to kill him twice.

He'd decide to give inklings the benefit of the doubt and give their bad name a clean slate; inklings and octolings were able to live in harmony before, right? Why couldn't they do that again?

“How’s the stew coming along?” Callie peeks her head through the door.

“Still not done,” Marie says as she dumps a bowl’s contents into the pot. “Tell Gramps to wait.”

“I'm asking for me, not him.” Callie slips through the door and sits on the countertop, facing Eight. “So… you're Agent 8?”

Eight nods, attempting to smile.

“It's nice to meet you!” Callie beams. “Sorry for ignoring you back there. I haven't seen Gramps in forever and I missed him so much; kinda forgot about you.”

“You didn't get that excited when _we_ reunited,” Marie remarks.

“Cause _you_ shot ink at my head and left me with a raging headache. Gramps would never do that to me.”

“You're right, he’d get Three to do it. You'd lose that battle in seconds.”

Callie rolls her eyes. “I can beat anyone if I use the right weapon.”

“Tell that to the ground your face met with when you rolled into the dirt with your duelies.”

Callie makes a loud noise teetering between surprise and offense, and Eight stifles a laugh.

“Whatever, grandma.” Callie jumps off the countertop and walks out the door. “Let me know when the stew’s done.”

“Sure thing.”

Marie waits until Callie is out of earshot and turns to Eight with an amused smile. “As clumsy as she is, you shouldn't underestimate Callie. She is deadly with her roller.”

____________________________________

As the day stretched on, Eight slowly broke out of his shell, learning how to feel comfortable with the company surrounding him. He grew warm towards Callie and Marie — with their open and inviting personalities, it was kinda hard not to — and he found Sheldon’s rambling about weapons somewhat soothing.

Now the sun is setting, and the group is keeping their eyes glued to the TV, watching the tournament with intensity. At times, Four turns her focus over to Eight, asking questions about himself that Eight really can’t answer with certainty. Four detects this, and shifts the topic to her, and Eight couldn't be more grateful. She’s in the middle of describing some job she took up a while back, when a foul stench starts to hang in the air.

Marie is the first to say something as she wrinkles her nose. “I think Three’s back.”

Callie looks around the room and peers out the window. “How can you tell?”

“You don't smell that? It smells like sweat and sewage.”

Four takes a whiff of the air and gags.

“He’s not even in the room. People don’t smell _that_ bad, Marie,” Sheldon claims.

“Consider it an advanced sense of mine from being an agent,” Marie retaliates with a beaming smile. “I know that smell. He's here, if not close.”

“He's been underground for two weeks,” Cuttlefish intervenes. “Cut him some slack.”

“Eight was underground for who knows how long and _he_ smells fine,” Marie whispers as Callie nods in agreement.

Hearing this, Eight hugs his knees to his chest in embarrassment. _How much do they know about me?_

“If that is him, I'd better check.” Cuttlefish grabs his cane and limps outside.

Eight wonders if he should follow Cuttlefish. He knows how it feels to be stuck underground with limited resources to live on.

But Four’s story about salmonids and a “Mr. Grizz” has caught Eight’s interest, so he stays inside.

Some time after Cuttlefish heads outside, Sheldon gets up from the couch and stretches. “I'll see you guys later.”

“You’re leaving, Sheldon?” Callie asks.

“Yes, unfortunately, I need to prepare Ammo Knights for tomorrow. But thanks for inviting me.” He shifts his eyes towards Eight. “It was nice to meet you, Agent Eight. I hope to see you more around Inkopolis.”

Eight smiles. He liked meeting Sheldon too.

Watching Sheldon move, Four rises from the floor.

“You too, Four?” Callie pouts.

Four yawns and nods.

“But we'll see you for tomorrow's weapon fortune-telling, right?”

A grin crosses Four's face as if to say “Of course!”

“Cool,” Callie waves. “We'll see you then!”

Sheldon and Four wave back and walk out the door together.

Another hour passes by, and Cuttlefish finally comes back inside, a folded piece paper in his hand and a tired smile on his face.

“How's Three?” Callie asked.

“Exhausted. He's decided to go home for the night.” Cuttlefish shuts the door. “He says hi.”

“Did he find anything underground?” Marie adds on.

“Nope. Inkopolis is safe for now.” Cuttlefish hands Eight the paper and heads for the kitchen. “Eight, we'll head back to the Metro tomorrow morning. I feel like staying for the night.”

Eight nods and eyes the paper with interest.

“So it's the four of us tonight, huh?” Callie sighs. “That means Gramps is sleeping on the couch.”

Marie groans. “And we're sleeping on the floor. I'll go out and buy some sleeping bags.”

Callie rolls off the couch. “I'll go too. You wanna come with, Eight?”

But Eight doesn't hear her. The words written on the paper distract him from reality. He stares at the letter with wide, analyzing eyes, concerning both Callie and Marie.

“I guess not.” Marie turns to the kitchen and cups her hands to her mouth. “Gramps, we’re going out! We’ll be back soon!”

____________________________________

In the midst of the night, Eight holds the letter up to the moonlight again. It's the fifteenth time he's done it since the moon rose. He rotates the letter as if the words written on it will change. But the words remain the same each time:

_Sorry for trying to… you know, kill you and everything._

_It wasn't anything personal._

_I actually think you're pretty cool._

_Hope we can hang out sometime._

_-Three_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> FINALLY.
> 
> I can't even enjoy finishing this or proofread it rn cause I have something due oops
> 
> Constructive criticism is appreciated, and thanks for reading!


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So it's like 3:30 in the morning where I am and I have a lot to say but I'll save it for the after notes
> 
> I'm just happy that I finally got a chapter in

Eight’s not really sure how to respond to this. How  _ do _ you respond to something like this?

Even as Cuttlefish and Eight say their goodbyes and start the journey back to the metro, Eight’s mind is muddled with thoughts. One part of him wants to respond to Three's note without hesitation. Another part still has his doubts. A third part wants to know why he cares so much.

Eight is at a crossroads. Maybe he could go to Iso Padre for guidance. He always had an answer for everything, even if half of his answers sounded like obscured nonsense.

The sun starts to gleam as it peaks over the horizon, and the light catches Eight's vision. He can't help but to stop and admire the scene. It's just as bright now as it was when he first saw the star rise. Eight doesn't want to move.

He must have been staring at the sun for quite some time, because Cuttlefish eventually joins him, his words soft with wisdom.

“Look at that thing too long and you'll go blind. Funny how some beautiful things can cause harm.”

A sound escapes Eight’s mouth, as if to say “Trust me, I know”.

______________________________________

The CQ-80 flashes and shows Eight how many tests remain. One involving a boss, an 8-ball one, the tower control one...

And of course, Girl Power Station.

Eight frowns. All of these tests are going to be a royal pain, he can already tell. He selects the 8-ball level and the Metro switches tracks — Eight feels the vibrations stretch across the train. The vibrations make Iso Padre's body stir. He begins to wake, and Eight figures it's better to do this now than later.

Yet Eight's body refuses to move, so he ends up staring at Padre like a moron. Thankfully, Padre seems to notice his fear and starts the conversation.

“You look like you have something to say to me, young squire. What's on your mind?”

Eight opens his mouth to explain, but then he remembers something. He gets up from his seat with quick, hushed paces to the door of the passenger car. Peeking inside the adjacent car, he finds Cuttlefish knocked out on the seats. Eight is grateful — the old man will tease him to no end if he hears this conversation.

The octoling walks up to Padre with hesitant steps, head perpendicular to the floor. He shoves the note in the isopod's direction. It takes forever for Padre to finally retrieve the note from his balled-up fists. 

“What's this? It's definitely not a mem cake…”

Eight explains his situation in a low voice while Padre reads the paper.

“Sounds like you have a crush,” Padre confirms, and Eight makes a horrified look, because the line between his fears and reality is starting to fade. How could Eight develop feelings for an inkling, an _ inkling —  _ one who tried to kill him? 

The situation is so unreal and degrading — it sounds like something that could only happen in crappy movies. 

“Don't think too much into it,” Padre assures him. “It's an invitation, not a death sentence. If anything, this note can keep your mind off of less pleasant things.”

Eight raises an eyebrow. What could be more unpleasant than being a confused, lovestruck idiot?

“The tests.” Padre’s eyes glances out the window behind Eight. “Looking outside, I can tell the one you’re headed to is quite frustrating.” Padre returns the note back to Eight with firm hands. “If I were you, I'd accept the offer. Think of it as a motivator to get out of here as soon as possible.”

Eight scans the note for the umpteenth time. Three’s words haven't changed — they're still simple and honest. 

So Eight agrees with Padre and nods. If Three could make amends, so could Eight. He just needed to figure out how to do so without looking stupid.

“You’re in for quite a journey,” Padre states, a hint of amusement noticeable in his voice. “How eventful a crush can be.”

______________________________________

When the Metro stops at its destination, Eight walks up to the weapon selector with a relaxed swing in his step. He picks the E-Liter 4k scope and aims it at the wall —  right where CQ Cumber is. Through the scope, Eight sees the sea slug sway his stubby arms, as if he's trying to summon something. Eight shoots the slug, and pink ink covers his bioluminescent body in an instant as he falls to the floor. Eight hopes CQ Cumber feels some pain, because the sea slug will repay the pain to him tenfold when he inevitably fails this test.

Eight approaches him to talk, and the slug's words are calm and monotone, as if Eight hadn't just shot him with a full charge. CQ Cumber states the rules of the test, followed by a helpful tip, and the conversation ends with a “Take care out there.”

Swiping his CQ card through the scanner, Eight is launched onto the testing grounds. He gazes at the test — it's a replica of a pool table, hovering in an endless abyss. Ramps are placed on the table, with 8-ball switches located above them. There are seven 8-balls in sight.

He charges the E-Liter, lines his eye with the scope, and adjusts his aim to a ball, but he doesn't let go of the trigger. Instead, he thinks.

He recalls the decision he made back at Tentakeel Outpost, to give inklings a clean slate.  Looking through the history of inklings and octolings, befriending squids is easier said than done, and Eight knows that now. 

The road to forgiveness would involve a lot of questioning and self-loathing, but Eight could handle it. He'd been through worse, and he wasn't one to back down from a challenge.

And being near Three was definitely a challenge.

Taking the first shot, Eight aims the ball into a switch with ease. He focuses his attention on another ball, this one facing a ramp.

Eight figures that, in a way, he’s had a crush on Three for a while. Ever since he escaped underground. He wants to think he remembers that morning, clear as crystal, but he honestly doesn’t. He  _ can  _ remember falling in the sky and onto a helicopter, with the wind flapping through his hair and onto his back. After that, it’s nothing but an orange haze paired with an ear-splitting screech until Three wakes.

Eight remembers kneeling down in front of Three when his eyes open. And for some reason, smiling at Three is the clearest memory Eight has of that day. 

This time, when Eight shoots the ball, it rolls off the ramp and slows down when it nears the barrier. He swims down to the end of the table and repositions himself, keeping his aim on the same ball.

Why does Eight even have a crush on Three? The only thing Eight likes about him is how attractive he his, and Eight really wants to believe he isn't that shallow. What other traits does Three have that he finds appealing…?

Well, Eight’s noticed how Three always sees things to the end. He's as stubborn as he is gorgeous. It's a trait that Eight finds admirable, considering he can be stubborn too.

Plus, Three saved him and Cuttlefish from a violent, gloopy death. Of course he'd be a little attracted towards him.

Eight's so lost in thought he doesn't hear the beeping from his ink tank. When he pulls the trigger, the 8-ball ricochets between two platforms, and the beeping increases to a maximum.

Realizing that he's just ran out of ink, the octoling groans. Padre was right — this test was frustrating.

Eight doesn't give CQ Cumber the chance to fail him as he submerges in his ink and plunges head first into the abyss below him. If he was going to receive physical punishment for his failure, he'd receive it on his own terms. Besides, it's quicker to retake the test that way.

When Eight respawns, one thought in his mind remains — he needs to get out of here. He needs to regain  _ all _ of his memories, so he can leave this place for good.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First - Really sorry for the the 5 month wait. College, work, and family had me for a while, so Happy Halloween, Thanksgiving, Christmas/Hanukah/Kwanzaa, New Year, Splatfest (team Pancake for the win) and then some.
> 
> Second - IT IS SO HARD TO WRITE A DECENT STORY WHEN YOUR MAIN CHARACTERS DON'T FUCKING TALK
> 
> Third - Also sorry that this chapter was meh. I wanted to solidify Eight's personality here, so I hope that shows in the writing. Things should be getting interesting soon... (I hope)
> 
> As always, constructive criticism is appreciated, and thanks for reading!


End file.
